Waking Up
by Hallon
Summary: Do dreams come true? And do we really want them to? Oneshot.


**Waking Up**

* * *

**Summary:** Do dreams come true? And do we really want them to?

**A/N:** Ok...this was started (once again) by an idea from **Selina**. If you're a fan of Logan...you probably won't like this...

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters from Gilmore Girls. If I did the events from the end of season 3 an up would be very different...starting with Jess not leaving...

* * *

It was some sort of party, another stupid social gathering she went to with Logan. She hadn't really wanted to go, since she had a paper to write and quite a few articles for the _Yale Daily News_ to edit. But, as usual she hadn't been able to come up with a good enough excuse for him and ended up going anyway.

She wasn't even sure who was hosting it, or why it was being held. All she knew was that she was at a hotel in New York, one of the fancy five star ones that she had spent too much time at in the last couple of months.

She wondered a little over the people that were there when they arrived, but she didn't think too much about it. Logan almost immediately strolled over to the bar, not too steady on his feet to begin with and she turned the other way. After wandering around for a while she found herself back in the large assembly room.

That was where she saw him. At first she thought it was just a trick on the mind, someone who resembled him. But then she saw him again and she was sure. It was Jess and he looked perfect. Just like she remembered, but maybe a little happier. Of course, the last time she had seen him he had been perfectly happy until she ruined it and once again broke his heart.

What was he doing here? She almost didn't have time to think about that before she was looking right into his eyes. They were a whole room apart, but she couldn't seem to be able to see anything else than his eyes. He looked shocked for a second, and she thought she saw a short flash of pain in his eyes, but it soon vanished, maybe it had never been there.

She didn't know what came over her, but the next thing she knew she was walking over to him. By now he had put on an indifferent expression, one that she still couldn't read. Or maybe she had been able to for a while, when she still knew him. She reminded herself that she actually didn't know him that well anymore. But she didn't have time to think about that for long. Too soon she was standing right in front of him. She felt herself shrink under his gaze, not used to the intensity of it after Logan's eyes that were always a little dull.

"Hi," she said, trying not to sound nervous, but failing completely as she felt her stomach turn into knots. She felt like she was about to be sucked into those eyes, without any way of returning again.

"Hey," he said, sounding all too neutral for her taste. She had wanted at least his voice to waver a little, some small sign that he wasn't as composed as he appeared. That he was as uncomfortable as she was.

"I…what are you doing here?" She could have smacked herself with a bat, but it was too late for that. And she could see the frown form on his face and thought she saw an annoyed glint in his eyes. Or maybe it was amusement. She wasn't sure, but was hoping for the latter.

"You seem fond of that question," he said with a small smile. She thought she picked up on something in his voice, but she wasn't sure. She did however get what he was referring to.

"I…I didn't mean…" she said, but didn't finish. She still didn't know what to say. It was like her mind had stopped working, like all ability for speech had left her.

"Well, I'm here for the store," he said, and by now she really thought it might be amusement. "The question is; what are you doing here? Do you even know what this…thing is about?" he asked gesturing to the rest of the room, filled with mingling people.

"I…" she began, but once again didn't know how to continue. It was true; she didn't have any clue as to what this was about. She sighed and looked down for a second, shaking her head.

"Thought so," he said with a small smirk, almost unnoticeably shaking his head. "So, what are you doing here?" He sounded so normal to her. She didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad.

"I…I'm…" And once again she didn't know how to continue. How was she supposed to tell him that she came with Logan? That she was here instead of at school, where she should be? She didn't know and once again let her eyes drift to the floor, not wanting to meet his gaze.

"You might want to work on putting words together," he said, still with a slight hint of amusement she though. "And relax; I know you're here with him. Or came here with him anyway." By his last sentence the hints of amusement had completely left his voice and it was once again neutral, though a bit strained.

She looked up at that, wondering what he meant, silently wishing her instinctive answer wasn't true. He must have seen the question in her eyes because he nodded to the bar with an almost rueful smile.

She turned the way he nodded, hoping against hope that her instinct was wrong. Hoping that she wouldn't find what she already knew was there. But she had caught the slightly disgusted look in his eyes when he once again turned his eyes to the bar and her hope wasn't that high.

What she saw was Logan sitting on a stool next to a blonde and way too skinny girl. And there was no question about what he was doing. She thought she might get sick by the sight, but felt too stunned at the moment.

When she turned around again Jess was looking right at her, his eyes boring into her. "I wish I could say I'm sorry, but…" He shook his head slightly, the pained look back in his eyes for a second. "I can't tell you what to do. I just hope he's worth it."

She had gotten what she wanted. She could hear the hurt in his voice now and she instantly wished she hadn't. She started saying something, but couldn't find the words. Instead he continued, looking her right in the eyes.

"I've got to go," he said after taking a breath and he was once again in control of his voice. "This is a gathering for some up and coming publishing houses in the country. And for some reason I'm not sure of, we were invited. So, I've gotta do what I came here to do, which is trying to find some good connections, maybe a couple new authors." He paused and gestured out in the room as if to make his point even clearer.

"If it's any consolation," he continued, "he looks to be too drunk to know what he's doing. You might want to get him away from here before he really does anything though." He paused again, lifting his hand as if to touch her, but let it fall to his side again. "Maybe I'll see you around," he said, and smiled a little sadly at her before backing away.

And then he was gone, on his way up to the bar where she saw him order a bottle of water. He almost finished it before taking a deep breath and plastering on a smile that, to anyone who didn't know him, looked very genuine. She was still standing in the same spot where he had left her, too shocked to move more than her eyes.

Her eyes followed him through the room as he walked up to an older man, around 60, who looked important. She saw him smile and reach out his hand, introducing himself and shaking the man's hand firmly when he accepted it, with a smile of his own. She couldn't take her eyes off the scene. She wasn't sure if it was actually happening, but the searing pain from an elbow she got in her lower back as someone pushed past her told her it was.

She finally turned her eyes away from Jess and the man, talking animatedly and once in a while laughing at something one or the other said. And she found her eyes settled on Logan. What a contrast they were, and not only physically. Logan was still sitting at the bar, his hand now placed on the hip of the girl beside him. He had a drink in one hand and he was leaning closer and closer to the girl. She couldn't watch anymore.

She abruptly turned around and once again found herself looking straight into Jess' eyes. She thought she detected a flash of sadness, and maybe regret, in his eyes. He held her gaze for a few seconds before turning back to his conversation and she immediately felt alone. She couldn't stay there anymore.

She took one last glance at Jess, now smiling and gesticulating, telling the man some idea or other, and walked up to the bar. She made a disgusted face at the scene she was met by. Logan was almost close enough to kiss the girl by now, and he looked like he was just about to do that. And then he fell off the stool he was sitting on.

She didn't know what to do. She felt like everyone was staring at her, judging her, pitying her. She couldn't stand the stares from everyone and thought for a second about just turning around, leaving the room, leaving Logan, just leave everything behind. It would feel so good to just walk out, but she knew she couldn't do that. She couldn't leave him here. She just couldn't.

Then she felt a hand on her arm and Jess was there. He gave her a sad smile and she could almost feel her heart break at what she didn't see in his eyes. "Come on, I'll help you get him out of here," he said quietly. And she still couldn't read his eyes.

Helplessly she watched as he heaved Logan up from the floor, taking a firm grip around his waist and more or less dragged him out of the room. Why was he doing this? Why did he help her? Their last meeting flashed through her mind and she involuntary cringed at her conclusion. With heavy steps she followed him out the doors and over to the elevator.

"I have to get back inside," Jess said once he had helped her get Logan into a cab on the street, turning his head slightly to the entrance behind them. He looked like he was thinking for a second before turning back to her, a sad look in his eyes.

"Why are you with him?" he asked, barely even a whisper. "I just wish…" He shook his head and looked down on the ground. "No, it doesn't matter. Take care; maybe I'll see you around."

Then he was gone again, walking back into the building and over to the elevator. She stood in the street, feeling like she had just been hit in the stomach with something really heavy. She watched his retreating back, wishing she could walk after him.

Logan was hardly responsive the whole ride and she barely managed to get him into the apartment when they finally arrived. He went out like a light, completely gone from the world once she had pushed him down on the bed, not bothering with removing his clothes.

She sat alone on the couch for hours after that, wondering where she went so wrong. Was this really the life she wanted? Was this really how she wanted to spend her time? Was he really worth all of this?

She didn't get any sleep that night and when she went to class in the morning he was still decked on the bed, lying in the exact same position she had left him. She almost fell asleep twice during the class and when it let out she had no idea what it had been about.

When she arrived back at the apartment during lunch to get the some things for the paper he was up and disturbingly awake and happy. He acted like nothing happened, like it was just another day and everything was fine. Like last night hadn't happened. And finally she couldn't take it anymore.

The anger over his stunts and actions finally caught up with her full force. And she realized that she had never really forgiven him for his not-really-cheating. That she really didn't like his drinking at all. That she didn't like the way he always made her do things she didn't particularly want to do.

And she finally did what she should have done months ago. She walked out of the apartment, promising to come back later to pick up her stuff. She left him stunned in the middle of the apartment and walked out, trying hard not to let her tears flow. It didn't matter that she knew she was doing the right thing, it still hurt.

When she got out on the street she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, dialing with tears streaming down her face. When her mother picked up she took a shaky breath and asked if they could have some wallowing time that night, just the two of them.

The night was spent on the Gilmore couch, watching bad movies and eating way too much junk food. She fell asleep early the next morning, glad that she didn't have classes that day. When she woke up, well rested for the first time in months it seemed, she was greeted by the smell of coffee from the kitchen.

She walked out of her room and almost felt like she was back in high school. That she would have a cup of coffee before hurrying over to the diner for breakfast. That she would arrive at the diner and be greeted by a pair of brown eyes that always got a little less annoyed when she walked through the door.

She missed those days and for the first time she admitted it to herself. She decided to find out if it wasn't too late to get that back. But first she had to make sure the rest of her life was in order. She didn't want to screw things up again.

* * *

_She open__s her eyes to the sun shining brightly in through the windows (the panorama windows looking out over the city view she requested when they moved) and groans at the sharp pain in her head._

_She quickly close__s her eyes once more, trying to decide whether to curse at the weather or flail whoever has drawn up the curtains (she doesn't even consider the fact that maybe she should have drunk a little less the night before)._

_Then the phone (the phone she insisted on installing in the bedroom right beside her side of the bed) rings, its shrill signal sending shocks of pain through her head._

_She trie__s hiding her head (she doesn't care that it's childish and once again avoids recognizing the fact that she's the only one to blame) under the pillow, but it doesn't help._

_Sticking __her head out she calls out for the maid (she doesn't care if the name she is calling is the right one) to pick up the damn phone, the action causing new sears of pain to rip through her temples._

_Nothing happens and she decides to fire the maid (she still can't remember her name, not that she really cares) later that day._

_It will just have to wait till right after she has killed whoever it is that is calling at this ungodly hour (she doesn't realize, or doesn't want to realize, that it is almost noon) of the day._

_She turns over in the bed (she curses whoever poured her all the alcohol last night), flinging her hand out at the offending piece of plastic._

_She reaches for the receiver and prepares to make the person at the other end (she doesn't care if it's the president, her mother or some idiot at the phone company) just as miserable as she herself is at the moment._

* * *

_She is sitting at the dining room table, trying not to squint (the painkillers she took thirty minutes earlier haven't started working yet) at the light reflecting off the lightly colored walls._

_The __food in front of her makes her stomach turn and the cup of coffee (at least she thinks it was coffee, she can't always tell anymore) she just had hasn't helped at all._

_She calls for the maid (she hasn't remembered either her name or to fire her yet) complaining over the lack of service, demanding something else to eat._

_She doesn't even look up (she doesn't give a damn about the girl anyway) to see the look in the girl's eyes, scared and disgusted at the same time._

* * *

_She is sitting at the dining room table again, this time for dinner (she didn't bother waiting for her husband to come home) and she has a paper in front of her._

_She is skimming through the __paper to come to the society pages (she has to check up on the latest gossip before the party later tonight) when her eyes catches sight of a familiar face._

_She doesn't know what to do (she doesn't want to, doesn't need to, be reminded of the past) and quickly closes the paper, tossing it down on the table beside her plate._

_It's been so long since she thought of him (although, if she is truthful with herself, __though she hardly is anymore, it wasn't all that long ago) that she can't quite process the fact that he's once again in the paper._

_She can't quite keep her eyes off the paper for the rest of the meal (she doesn't really pay that much attention to the food, hardly eating anything) and when the maid comes in to clear the table her plate is still half full._

* * *

_It is not until she is preparing for the party (a function for one of her husband's business partners) that she once again opens the paper, searching for the face that keeps haunting her._

_There it is, looking back at her from the page with that half smile that she can't rid her mind of (__she lost count of how many times she has tried years ago)._

_She reads the headline and deciphers that he has yet another novel (she has read everyone of them, though she tries to imagine she hasn't) on the bestseller list and that this one is in the work of being made into a film._

* * *

_Her husband comes home late, smelling like cheep perfume (it doesn't make her cry anymore, it's not like she loves him anyway), just in time to take a shower before they have to drive to the party._

_She sits in the car on the way over to the hotel and tries not to think about the article (in truth it's the only thing that's been on her mind since she saw his picture the first time) and doesn't hear a word her husband is saying to her._

_She can still see the words clearly, the words telling her of his latest travels (she recognizes every name, all of them places she always wanted to visit) all over the world._

_She remembers reading about him recently getting married (she pictures the ceremony, simple and beautiful, just like she had always wanted it, and so far from her own wedding) to the most beautiful woman she had ever seen._

* * *

_She grabs another glass (she lost count of how many there have been a long time ago) from the tray of a passing waiter and downs it almost in one gulp._

_She turns around, almost losing her footing (she doesn't admit to herself that it's from too many cocktails) from moving too fast and freezes when she sees a familiar face in the crowd._

_She doesn't quite comprehend it at first, the fact that he (she thinks he looks more beautiful than she has ever seen him) is less than 30 feet away from her._

_She regains her balance and tries hard to compose herself (she thinks she has had too much training to let any of this affect her visibly) once more, when she sees him turn fully to her._

_Their eyes lock for a few seconds (she wasn't aware that one look could turn her whole world upside down, though she thinks should have remembered) before he turns again and says something to the woman beside him and kisses her on the cheek._

* * *

_She stands frozen for what feels like an eternity, watching him interact with the beautiful woman (she can't help but compare herself to her, realizing for the first time that maybe she wouldn't win) at his side._

_She can't take her eyes off of them (she pictures herself at his side, remembering how it felt like to be admired by his eyes) and watches as they smile and steel glances at each other._

_She watches as he leads her out to the dance floor, leading her with ease through the steps (she wants to be in his arms, wants to feel how it's like to dance with him holding her close), avoiding the other couples._

_She feels tears threatening when they stop in the middle of a step, looking deep into each others eyes, before kissing passionately (she can almost taste his lips on hers as she remembers the last time they kissed)._

* * *

_She starts when she feels __her husband's hand on her back, holding her just a little too hard (she wishes she could tell him how she wants to be touched, but she's afraid it wouldn't matter)._

_She shudders a little when she feels his alcohol drenched breath (she doesn't really consider the fact that she herself probably smells very similar) on her face as he leans in and kisses her sloppily, half missing her mouth._

_She plasters on a fake smile when he whispers an excuse (she isn't sure what he's apologizing for, but she doesn't think she wants to know anyway) in her ear and leads her out to the dance floor for the required dance._

_She feels like everyone's eyes are on her (she only wishes for one pair of eyes to see her, but she knows he's not watching) when they dance over the floor and she tries to ignore it, concentrating on the steps she can hardly remember anymore._

* * *

_She watches him walk out of the room, his arm tightly wrapped around his wife's waist (she can hardly keep the tears out of her eyes and she thinks she'd do anything to be in her place right now) and she knows what they'll end up doing tonight._

_She walks by a closed door on her way to the bathroom and she clearly hears her husband's voice (she thinks she's started to hate that voice, or at least the way it is sounding now, strained and euphoric) from inside, mixed with some woman's she doesn't recognize._

* * *

_She can't stop her tears (she thinks she doesn't really care anymore) from falling when they sit in the car on their way home again and for once he notices._

_H__e offers her his bottle of whiskey (she accepts it and thinks something is wrong when she doesn't even cringe at the taste as the liquid flows down her throat) and tells her everything will change soon, just wait a while longer._

_She doesn't think she believes him this time (she isn't sure any longer if she ever really did, but it doesn't matter anymore), nothing will ever change and she is trapped in this life, this life she no longer wants to be a part of._

* * *

She woke up with a start, gasping for breath and feeling hot tears rolling down her cheeks. Opening her eyes she took a shaky breath when her head felt normal. She closed her eyes again and tried to rid herself of the images still in her mind. But she couldn't, just as she couldn't rid herself of the hopelessness that felt so real.

She started a second time when she felt movement beside her, for a second wondering where she was. Then she heard his voice from beside her, wondering what's wrong, and relaxed with a sigh of relief.

"Just a dream," she told him, settling back down beside him, breathing in the well known smell of him and feeling the dream slip away. He wrapped his arms around her and she snuggled closer.

"You want to talk about it?" he asked, his voice still laced with sleep, holding her close and leaving a kiss on her temple.

"Not really…" she began, letting her hand tangle in the curls at his neck. "Nothing to say really."

"What was so bad about it?" he asked, not buying it.

"I was married to Logan and I was miserable and you had found someone else. And I was just a mess. It took a while when I woke up to realize that it wasn't real, that it didn't happen. And I couldn't help but think that it might have actually happened." She took a deep breath. "I'm glad it didn't."

"Me too," he said, turning her head to him and kissing her softly.


End file.
